And if we were to put a timeline to love
by Waiting.At.The.End
Summary: Five & one first times in their budding relationship.


**And I suppose, if we were to put a timeline to love, it'd go something like this**

(AKA: Five + One first times)

**One. **(Hands)

Haru is very touchy-feely, Yuki realizes not long after they'd taken the alien in. He doesn't seem to have any concept of personal space—was this a so-called cultural misunderstanding?—and Yuki finds himself constantly greeted by tackles and hugs and actions that would be more well-suited for a lover. (He's heard that there have been whispers going around as to what Haru is to him and some have said that they were boyfriends and let's not even go there because it makes his face turn red and his throat clog up, and he really doesn't need that to happen more than it already does.)

He gets used to the affection, kind of. At the very least, he isn't too bothered when Haru grabs his hand one hot, Saturday afternoon and points to a local ice-cream shop. "Yuki, I want to get some ice cream!" he says, and he half-walks, half-prances to the store with Yuki in tow. (He doesn't ask; of course he doesn't ask.)

And as Haru's reaching over the counter to take the cone (it's strawberry), he's surprised when he realizes that he must be much more okay with the alien's undisguised affection than he thinks because he hasn't noticed that Haru hadn't let go of his hand. He's even more surprised when he discovers that he doesn't mind that one bit.

**Two. **(Confession)

"I love you!" Haru declares, and that's not how it's supposed to go at all.

Yuki turns red, sputters, and is finally able to choke out a strangled "WHAT?"

Haru tilts his head curiously at the not-quite-positive reaction, and Natsuki, who has probably already figured out where this is leading (the bastard), tries to conceal an amused smile.

"What's wrong? Did I say something weird?" Haru asks and of course it's a matter of his not knowing the connotations of human words, because that's what it always is. "But I just saw it on TV this morning!" he continues, as if it somehow justifies his usage of the phrase. "You say 'I love you' to people that you care about!" He smiles brightly. "I love Natsuki too!" who coughs and pretends to be engrossed in fishing, "and Kate, and Coco, and Sakura, and Ayumi, and Misaki, and..."

"Okay, okay! I get it!" Hastily, Yuki looks around to see if there is anyone else on the pier (there isn't), before he drops his fishing rod and hurries over to set things straight with Haru.

He explains the meaning of the words very intensely, and when it is and isn't acceptable to use them, with a lot of iPhone usage and arm-waving involved. Haru listens attentively as he always does when Yuki is explaining something, and when Yuki concludes with "... you can't just use it as you like!" he nods once.

"Okay, I understand!" he says, doing that weird, double-pistol hand gesture of his. Yuki breathes a sigh of relief, because there is no telling what strange situations might have arisen had Haru gone around spewing those words to everyone.

"That doesn't matter though!" Haru continues, and Yuki feels like hitting his head against a nearby post.

He protests. "But—!"

"It doesn't matter," Haru cuts him off, insistent, "because I still love Yuki!"

Yuki swears that those words don't create butterflies in his stomach, that his heart doesn't skip any beats. Caught in the midst of emotional turmoil much like a middle schooler with a crush, he blurts out the first thing to come to his mind. "Fine! Just don't go around saying it to strangers..."

Haru grins. "Okay!" he says again, then cheerily wanders over to Natsuki.

Yuki has to ensure that his heart has slowed its 500 km/hr race to a heart attack before he can rejoin the other two. He tells himself that Haru really just hadn't understood, and he pretends he doesn't notice that the other hasn't said "I love you" to anyone else since.

**Three. **(Heartbreak)

It had been happy when he left. They'd all gone out on a boat, and they'd been smiling, and they'd waved good-bye and Haru and Coco and Urara had left. Flown back into the sky, from where they had come.

But that was only the beginning.

After that, Akira left, and Natsuki too, and what Yuki witnessed was his friendships as they cracked and crumbled to the ground.

He was left standing alone in their ruins.

Now, the house is quiet and so are the piers. The people that he passes by are all strangers. There's no one for him to fish with anymore, there's no one for him to laugh with. Of course, Misaki and Ayumi and Erica are all still there, and they do their best for him and he appreciates that, but it's not the same. It's nowhere near the same.

Everything had started with Haru, he realizes one day. He hadn't been aware of it at the time, but it had been Haru who'd drawn him out of his shell, who'd found Natsuki and Akira, who'd brought them all together. He realizes that Haru had been their connecting thread, and now the thread is gone and everything has begun to unravel.

(He wonders how he'll get back on his feet. He doesn't want to be the same as he was before, but the way things are going, he can't see it becoming any other way.)

He spends the rest of the summer in idleness. He still helps Kate around the house and he's around the shop more frequently now, and he keeps up a guise of cheerfulness. He doesn't want her to worry, to know that sometimes, when he's alone, he feels the loneliness rear up and hit him full force, and it leaves him breathless, drowning (but at those times there's nowhere he can run because that loneliness pursues him, stepping on his heels, threatening to overtake him altogether).

Erica drops by their house occasionally, too. She'll invite him to the grocery store, to have lunch with her, to a restaurant with her friends. Some of these he accepts, the others, he makes a hasty excuse to decline. Sometimes when she comes by, she tells him about Natsuki and what he's been doing, and she tells him that Natsuki has asked him to call. Yuki looks away, and says he'll do it later. (He hasn't had the courage yet.)

He tried fishing once, but he was alone. He doesn't try it again. Only if someone else is with him, he tells himself, because otherwise the silence rings too loudly.

It's pretty bad, yeah. But it's not the worst.

The worst is Haru. The worst is when he passes by Haru's room and it's empty. The worst is doing the dishes, and there's no one there to talk to him. The worst is walking down the stairs and wondering why the TV isn't on. The worst is setting up the table for three, and then removing one of the plates. The worst is the stunning realization, _he's gone_.

Haru is the absence that rings the loudest.

Yuki will stand at the door to Haru's room sometimes, and just stare. He thinks that some part of him still harbors the childish hope—just like when his parents left—that if he looks hard enough, what is lost will come back.

It doesn't work.

At night, he can see stars from his window. He wonders if Haru's planet orbits one of those stars, maybe. He recalls the times when they'd laid outside in the grass, and Haru would point out which star is which. He'd asked if aliens had the same names for the stars as humans did, and Haru had told him no, but he'd looked them up just so he could tell Yuki. Now, when he's laying alone, he tries to remember the names of the stars but he can't, and so he turns his back on them to shut out their brightness.

He feels like he should cry, but he doesn't. All he feels is a numbness, not always prominent, but vaguely there, nagging at his heart. He wonders if everyone leaves some day.

He wants to get better. He knows that it's unhealthy to cling to his friends so much—they were moving on with their lives, and he should do the same with his. But they were his first true friends—they were the best. How could he move past that?

He gets a little better when school starts. People talk to him and they're nice and they invite him places, but they don't replace Natsuki or Akira or Haru. Erica is nice too, but she can't replace them either. (He feels almost guilty for that, because she tries so hard to cheer him up.)

He feels resigned to live that way, almost. He thinks he knows that no one will ever be able to replace them, and when he'd told Kate that, she'd said as much. But she'd also said that it didn't mean that he couldn't make other friends, even if they aren't as precious.

So he tries. Sometimes, they almost make him forget the numbness in his chest. Almost.

Months pass. He goes to restaurants with a few of his classmates, he lets Erica teach him how to surf, he spends some time working at Hemmingway. He finally calls Natsuki and talking to his friend does the most to fill out that little empty spot in his chest. He's not as happy, but he's not sad either. That's pretty good, he thinks.

He takes up spending time at the library, too. There, he looks up books about outer space, because he wants to know more about the place Haru had traveled through to meet him. The clerk there is a college student, quite nice, and she becomes a friend too (but still no replacement).

All in all, he's done pretty well.

But there are still nights when he'll lay awake and try to name the stars, and he'll feel a pang of sadness because Haru won't be there again for him to show the other how much he's learned.

But one day—

One day—

It seems like lost things sometimes do return.

**Four. **(Kiss)

The smell of sea salt and summer musk permeates the air, and it's interrupted only by snatches of smoke from a small bonfire when the breeze decides to have its way. Waves lap gently against the shore as stars begin to shine through the clouds, and though night is coming on fast, no one seems quite predisposed to return home.

And that is understandable, their desire to stay on the beach and to be soaked by sea spray and to get drunk on euphoria and the hot, humid perfume of late July, because this is their time. It had been a year since any of them had spent time together like this, loose and unhurried and laughing, with eyes hardly for anyone else. A year after that tumultuous summer ending in a typhoon, a year since friendly good-byes, and a year of IMs and written letters and phone calls and talk of meeting up again.

It was only after strong insistence from Haru that the get-together had been arranged. He and Misaki had eagerly thrown everyone's contact information together and begged and pleaded and coerced those who were gone to come back to the island for a week. It's already clear that the reunion is a wonderful idea well on its track to becoming a regular occurrence, and that little ache that had settled in everyone's heart after that summer seems to have eased for the time being.

Yuki finds himself sitting alone in the sand, just inside a ring of flickering brightness cast by the bonfire as he watches his friends silhouetted against the waves. He's not lonely (this isn't like the times before, when he'd stand on the sidelines as he watched his classmates play football or volleyball or just fooled around as young people are meant to do and wished that he had the guts to join); this time, he's content with watching, content with how things are, and he knows somehow that he is included even as he rests a distance away from everyone else.

He watches the girls and Natsuki follow Sakura around as she searches for shells and coral. They chatter amongst themselves, and he sees Erica throw her head back and laugh at something Coco says. Misaki and Ayumi are further up the beach, with Akira, and Misaki has Tapioca cradled in her arms. Akira had shown up with two ducks, for some reason, saying something about Tapioca having found a lover. The new duck in question seems to be both a point of curiosity and trepidation for Urara, who is studying the bird from a safe distance away, using Ayumi as a shield.

He doesn't see Haru, though, and he's about to search the other out—he hopes he hasn't wandered too far away—but it becomes an unnecessary effort.

"Yuki, aren't you going to go talk to everyone else?" and the person in question is leaning over him curiously, hands clasped behind his back.

Yuki blinks, twists his head to look at his friend. "Ah—in a bit, maybe," he says, then his gaze shifts to the four walking along the line where sea meets earth. He smiles. "It's nice right now, just watching them."

A small pause as Haru considers that, then he plops down on the sand, close to Yuki. "I see!" he sing-songs. "It _is _nice to see everyone getting along."

Yuki glances over at him, at Haru—and it was meant to be a glance, never a stare—and he takes in the sight of his friend, sitting with his knees drawn up and his arms wrapped around them, smiling with infinite tenderness at the people who are scattered around the beach. The flickering of the fire casts shadows in just the right places and illuminates him with a golden glow, and he looks beautiful, just like that.

You could say, for the sake of clichés, that at that moment, Yuki's breath catches, that the words are stolen from his throat, that he is tongue-tied and awestruck. It's kind of dumb, really, because it's not like he hasn't looked at Haru before, but he just hasn't really_ looked_. Not when Haru was doing the dishes, not when Haru was watering the flowers, not after Haru had just woken up in the morning with sleep clouding his eyes, not when Haru smiled at him with a smile he never dedicated to anyone else. So the sight right now strikes him.

And watching Haru framed in such a way, Yuki wonders how he'd ever thought he could let Haru go and possibly never see him again and be okay with it. How he was ever okay never knowing where Haru had gone (returned to, he reminds himself), where he'd come from, not knowing anything about Haru's past or his possible future. Seeing Haru so clearly, with all of his perfections and imperfections highlighted by the flames, he wants to pull the other close, to make him promise that he'll never leave again and though it's absolutely preposterous that he's feeling this way one year later, he can't seem to swallow the lump of emotion that has risen in his throat. After all, in another world, in a less fortunate one, Haru might not be there at all.

His staring doesn't pass unnoticed. After a moment or two, Haru turns to him, and upon realizing that Yuki is looking at him, he smiles, tilting his head. "Yuki, why are you staring?" he asks. "Is there something wrong?"

Upon being caught, Yuki flushes, glad that the darkness can hide his face, and hurriedly diverts his eyes. "N-no, it's nothing," he stammers. He couldn't tell Haru that, for absolutely no reason at all, he wanted to pull the other close and bury his head in the crook of his neck and never let him go again (because not only is that mildly creepy, it's also downright embarrassing).

Unfortunately for him, Haru doesn't let it go and scoots closer instead. "What is it, Yuki?" he asks. "You look upset! You know you can tell me anything, since I'm your friend!"

Yuki dares to steal another glance at the other. Haru is looking at him with deep, earnest eyes, eyes that shine in the light of the fire, that assure Yuki that anything he says wouldn't be held against him. The simplicity of that logic, the simplicity of Haru's caring towards him, makes it a bit easier for Yuki to relax. After all, hadn't he told Kate once, that he felt like he could tell his friends anything that was on his mind?

He breathes in.

"Haru..." he begins, somewhat hesitant. Haru's gaze is still focused on him, and he knows that it's an indication that his friend is paying attention. As loud as Haru may be, as obnoxious and insensitively blunt, he's surprisingly good at quieting, at sitting down and listening, at offering whatever comfort he found he could offer. Yuki's grateful that, at the very least, there's that.

"When you left, you said you might not come back again," he starts slowly, putting his thoughts in order. "I've just been thinking about that, I guess. I don't know much about your planet, Haru. I don't know much about what happened before you came here. I don't even know what happened to you after you went back." He frowns down at his hands, realizing the actual scope of how little he really knows. "But you, you keep learning more about Earth every day, and about me, and Natsuki, and everyone else. It's kind of unfair, isn't it?" He looks back to Haru. "I want to know about you, too."

Haru's smile is gone, and he seems more surprised than anything. He blinks at Yuki. "You... want to know more about me?" he repeats, treating the sentence like it's a new, pseudo-revolutionary idea.

Yuki nods. "Yeah. I want to know more about you, about Coco and Urara. I want to know what life is like in your home planet. I want to understand too."

Haru considers his words for a moment, then he meets Yuki's eyes, a tad uncertain. "Mm... Okay," he says. "I think I can do that. And Coco can help explain, too..."

He still seems thoughtful, but Yuki is glad that at the very least he hadn't been rejected yet. It isn't as though Haru is particularly secretive about his planet, but he never talks about it either. Yuki isn't sure whether it's because of homesickness, or if he thought the rest of them weren't interested, or something else, but sometimes Yuki would find his lack of knowledge an uncomfortable impediment to their interactions and something of a nagging feeling at the back of his mind.

He ventures a smile, which Haru returns. "Thanks, Haru."

Another moment of silence passes over them, broken by the splash of the waves and peels of laughter when Erica decides to push Natsuki into the water. Yuki hears Haru chuckle at that, and the sound of it is so utterly endearing that a certain feeling of affection wells up in his chest. It gives him the courage to ask a question whose answer he isn't certain he wants to know.

"Haru... Will you have to go back to your planet again, someday?" he asks, and though he tries to control his tone, it comes out more melancholy than he'd intended.

For awhile, there's no response as Haru traces figures and symbols into the sand with his finger, and Yuki fears for the worst. But Haru finally speaks up, and he says, "I don't know." The answer, though probably expected, comes to Yuki like a punch in the gut. "They didn't say how long I'm allowed to stay..." His eyes dart to meet Yuki's for a brief moment, and in them, he reads sadness, guilt, distress. "I'm sorry, Yuki..."

Haru draws his legs in closer, resting his chin on his knees. His fingers stop their work in the sand, and all of a sudden, he looks so miserable, so vulnerable, and Yuki wonders if this is how it feels to have your heart break in two.

Instead of responding, because he doesn't know what he can say when Haru looks so utterly wrecked, Yuki does what he's been wanting to do the entire evening. He scoots over, his movements erasing the figures Haru had drawn, and he pulls the other to himself.

"You can stay as long as you want," he says, determined, and he knows that this time he'd fight Haru's departure tooth and nail if it ever were to become necessary.

Haru's tense against him at first, but then he relaxes, slightly. Yuki knows that his words don't mean much, that they're hard to believe, but he wants to keep Haru by his side so long as the other wants it as well.

"Thank you, Yuki," Haru says, eventually, and he can hear the appreciation in his voice even though he knows that Haru doesn't fully believe him (because wanting to have faith is ultimately different than having it, no?).

Yuki pulls back, looking into Haru's eyes, as bottomless as the ocean he loves but infinitely clearer. In this position, the two of them are close enough that their breaths mingle, their noses barely touch, and he can clearly see the outlines of Haru's lips, and it's a moment fraught with electricity. Yuki knows that this is a terrible, horrible idea, and he'll probably regret it because he always regrets the things he does without forethought, but something tells him that he must take it or leave it.

And so he takes it.

He leans in and Haru closes his eyes and they're kissing. It's gentle, tentative, and inexperienced, but it's absolutely perfect. Haru's lips are feather-light against his own, and he sighs into the kiss as he allows Yuki to take the lead. It doesn't even last five seconds, but Yuki's pretty sure that it's the best five seconds he's ever lived.

His confidence, however, flighty thing that it is, vanishes rather quickly, as it is prone to do.

"A-ah—sorry!" he apologizes immediately afterwards when Haru doesn't say anything, and simply sits, touching his lips with his fingers with a mystified expression as Yuki proceeds to panic. What would he do if Haru hadn't liked it? Hadn't wanted it? Did Haru even know what kissing meant? What would he do if he'd just ruined their friendship in the most callous way possible?

The world is spinning before his eyes, and he feels one of his anxiety attacks coming on. "S-sorry!" he says again. "I really shouldn't have done that. I-I'll just, go, now." He stumbles over his words as he starts to stand, intent on getting away, but his progress is quickly halted by a hand on his wrist.

"It's okay," Haru says, smiling up at him. He looks a tad shy, but he tugs Yuki back down to the sand anyway. "It was nice. I liked it," he admits quietly, with something of an embarrassed smile, and it's all Yuki can do to keep from kissing him again. He resists it with an incredible effort, and simply sits back down.

Haru scoots closer and rests his head on Yuki's shoulder. They sit like that, shoulders touching, fingers intertwined, and watch as the flames of the bonfire die to embers.

**Five. **(Love)

Yuki does this completely of his own accord because Haru doesn't seem to have a sex drive of his own. Well, that's a misstatement of the fact; it's not that he _doesn't_, it's more like...

Well, it usually happens like this: they start off by kissing. How it gets to that point is varied to say the least—maybe Haru feels the compulsion to lay a quick one on Yuki's lips, or maybe Yuki can't resist the way the corners of Haru's mouth curl upward—but sometimes (most of the time nowadays) they end up with their lips locked and the room great deal more heated than it had been before.

And the thing is, Haru responds fine to that; he responds fine to the tongue in his mouth and the hand up the back of his shirt (he even breathes those soft little sighs that make Yuki shift uncomfortably in his seat), but he never... He never _encourages_, and that's half the problem. Because halfway through, Yuki will shy away, unnerved by the way Haru seems all right with what they're doing but never indicates that he wants more.

Sometimes, he worries that Haru still isn't familiar with this aspect of human custom. He'd spent nights awake, lying in his bed, wondering if he'd need to... explain it like the teachers in third year had, with diagrams and educational videos, but the thought itself would cause him so much anxiety that he'd curl up, pulling his blankets around his reddened face, and decide to ignore it until the next time he finds Haru's arms around his neck and their mouths pressed together.

What's worse is that this isn't exactly a problem he can discuss with his friends, much less—god forbid—Kate. And so for several months, he'd resigned himself to backing hastily out of the room when his moments of affection with Haru grew too intense, retreating into his own room and locking the door before unzipping his pants to grant himself relief, mind filled with images of Haru's half-closed eyes, his reddened lips and the blush that dusts across his cheeks—the pale nape of his neck and the lithe feel of Haru's body pressed against his own. He'd come with his head buried in a pillow, moaning Haru's name.

Occasionally, he feels guilty. It feels strange and, well, _wrong _to do that sort of thing behind Haru's back, even if they were dating or whatever it is they're doing. Yet, he thought that he'd go crazy if he had to keep holding back from touching Haru in all the ways he wants to; more than once, he'd wanted to pin Haru down and have his way with the other, to feel the shift and rhythm of his body, to make him toss his head back to reveal the long line of his neck, to make him vulnerable and passionate and utterly undone.

Those were the thoughts he felt guilt over, felt desire for, and he spent months with them circling his mind. Finally, unable to stand it any longer, he turned to the once source that could help him with this particular problem—the internet.

He'd flushed as he typed in the search words and read the first few links he'd found. It was embarrassing to admit that—yes—he wanted _sex _with Haru, and that he was looking up these pages with that intention in mind. But he calmed down as he read on. He was reassured that he shouldn't feel ashamed or embarrassed—that it was natural—and that put him at ease some. Most of the articles also insisted that he should talk clearly with his "partner" before actually _doing _anything, which was reasonable enough, but the prospect of having to actually _talk about it_ (and possibly having to explain to Haru the methods of human reproduction) made him exceedingly apprehensive.

And so he'd put it off for a week. Which became two. And week three was nearing its end, and Yuki was fairly certain that he'd spent more time in either his bedroom or the bathroom than elsewhere. It became quite clear that he needed to pull through with this, sooner or later.

So he'd settled on today. It's a Saturday, and Kate is out, and apparently she wouldn't be back until Sunday morning. He doesn't like to take advantage of his grandmother's absence like this, but he doesn't have much of a choice otherwise.

He finds Haru out in the garden. It's early afternoon, and the blonde is watering the flowers as scheduled. Yuki stands out on the porch, giving himself a moment to watch as his friend sprays the water around (some on himself) and smiles tenderly at the blossoms as he does so. It's funny, really, how Haru had screwed up most of the housework before he'd become accustomed to it, but had always been remarkably attentive and punctual when it came to the flowers. That hasn't changed after two years, and he even liked to ask about them when he and Yuki were away during the school year.

He lets Haru finish his job, and when the other has shut off the water and is putting the hose back in place, Yuki walks up behind him and wraps his arms around Haru's waist.

"Yuki?" Haru twists halfway around to ensure that it is, indeed, his friend, and when he sees Yuki standing there, his questioning expression softens into a smile. "What's up?"

Yuki sighs, burying his nose into Haru's smooth hair. Now or never, right? he asks himself, and does his best to build up whatever courage he has.

"I-I want to talk to you," he says, stuttering a little, feeling nervousness niggling at his psyche. "Can we go inside?"

Haru blinks up at him, albeit with a bit of difficulty from his position. He seems puzzled as to what Yuki could want to talk about, but nevertheless he answers with a cheery "okay."

Yuki leads them inside, and once they're well and settled on the couch, he takes a deep breath. Communication is key, right? And this is Haru he's going to be talking to, and Haru would never make fun of him, never scoff at him (but he _could _reject him and that's much more frightening than any of the other possibilities).

Facing that reminder, suddenly his throat tightens up. What if Haru doesn't like him the same way? What if he thinks badly of Yuki for bringing up such a proposal? Would he turn away in disgust and refuse to talk to Yuki again? What if—

"What did you want to talk about?" Haru breaks into his thoughts. The blond scoots closer, smiling up at him. Yuki's anxiety must've shown in his expression, because Haru adds, "You can tell me anything you want! And if you're having trouble with something, then—uh—I'll help you with it!"

Again, that earnestness, that trust that makes it so tempting to give in and spill all of his heart's secrets, but something like _this—_

And Yuki swallows because Haru's so _close, _and he's looking up at him with those unusually colored eyes, head tilted so that he's peering through his lashes, and Yuki suddenly finds himself hyper-aware of the way Haru's damp clothing clings against his skin, the bead of water that trickles slowly down his collarbone. The atmosphere becomes clear and suffocating and intensely intimate, and every shift of their bodies seems to be magnified, to send shocks of electricity jumping between them.

"Iwanttohavesexwithyou," he blurts out.

There's a beat and Haru blinks at him. Then, "what?" and Haru draws away a little, a half-pout on his lips. "That was too fast, Yuki."

And Yuki blushes. Of _course _it had been too fast, it's barely been over a year since they'd kissed for the first time, and with Haru being an alien and all of course he wasn't ready. He was so stupid for assuming that the other was ready, and how could he have interpreted Haru's resistance to continuing all those times in any other way? He reproaches himself, feeling shame and embarrassment well up inside him just as water begins to pool at his feet.

"O-o-of course it was," he stammers, jumping up from the couch, eager to get away from here as soon as possible. "I-I should've known that. Sorry—I shouldn't have asked," he says and with that, he turns around, about to pull a speedy, strategic retreat into his room where he could live down his shame in peace, but Haru grabs his wrist.

"Yuki, what are you saying?" Haru asks, and he sounds genuinely confused. Yuki spares himself enough to look at his friend. "I don't want you to leave! I didn't even hear what you asked..." and he removes his hand.

Oh. _Oh_. That was what Haru had meant by "too fast." The realization strikes Yuki and he isn't sure if he should feel more or less embarrassed with that knowledge. But he doesn't have time to ponder his own failures at communication, because after letting him go, Haru had withdrawn into himself, and he's staring down at the ground, looking somewhat miserable.

"Yuki, don't you like me anymore?" he asks.

The redhead looks at his friend, surprised, but Haru doesn't seem to register his reaction and keeps talking instead.

"You've been acting weird recently, and you don't talk to me as much anymore and you don't kiss me as much anymore. And a lot of the times, you just run off in the middle of things, and when I ask you what's wrong, you'll never tell me anything!" Haru looks truly pained as he speaks, and the guilt Yuki feels washes over his anxiety. "Don't you like me anymore?" he repeats, and Yuki wants to tell him that he likes him _too much._

Instead, he sits down on the couch again and takes Haru's hand, who looks up at him inquisitively, hopeful that Yuki will deny his words.

"Sorry," Yuki apologizes again. He realizes that he really has a lot to explain this time, because it had been quite apparent to most everyone (even to himself) that his act has been off the past month or so. And, he supposes, Haru has every right to know why, considering how much of it had to do with him. He takes a deep breath before beginning his explanation.

"I've just been nervous recently," he says. "I... I still like you, Haru. A lot." Feeling a bit tense, he rubs a hand over his mouth before adding, "Maybe too much." He steals a glance at his friend, who's still looking at him albeit with slightly less worry in his expression. "Wh-when we kiss, I always want to do more than just that, a-and I don't know... if you want to..." He drops his eyes again, face reddening as he repeats his earlier statement. "I want to have sex with you, Haru."

It's silent for several moments, though Yuki's quite certain that both of them can hear the frantic pounding of his heart, his blood roaring in his ears. Then, when he's sure that he's about to pass out from the suspense, Haru utters a quiet "okay."

Yuki looks up at his friend again. "Y-you sure?" he asks, slightly disbelieving, the surprise not yet giving way to optimism about this triumph. "You know what I'm asking for?"

Haru nods, and he's smiling shyly at Yuki, a light flush coloring his cheekbones. "Yeah," he says, in the same tone as before, soft and affectionate. "I'm happy that you want to do it with me."

And that expression is just begging to be kissed, so Yuki does. First, a light one on Haru's cheek, then another on the lips. When he pulls away, he returns the other's smile. "Thank you," he says.

And he leads Haru up to his room, and they start off hesitantly. They kiss, but the way their lips meet is gentle, as though it were their first (and in some ways it is). Haru is the one to deepen it, and he wraps his arms around Yuki's neck, pressing their bodies close in a way that makes warmth curl and settle in Yuki's stomach. After that, all bets are off, and he returns Haru's passion with just as much fervor.

"I-is this all right?" Yuki asks, breaking from their kiss, and he fingers the hem of Haru's shirt.

Haru swallows, hesitates, then nods, but in spite of his embarrassment, he's cheeky enough to laugh and say, "Yuki, you're so nervous! Your face is all red."

Yuki just flushes harder. "D-don't laugh!" he says, but Haru laughs anyway in good-natured mirth, silenced only when Yuki leans in and kisses away the laughter.

(He gets his revenge a bit later—when Haru has somehow worked his way to the top and begins leaving a necklace of violet across his collarbone—and Yuki slaps the other's ass and watches as Haru lurches forward with a squeak. The blond looks down at him, scandalized, but Yuki only grins and pulls him in.)

Their caresses are mostly tentative, soft, and, Yuki thinks, _Haru _is soft—his hair and his lips and his skin—and his touches ghost past Yuki's own body, leaving behind blazing trails of heat. He realizes, too, that Haru's unexpectedly quiet, and he makes more of those breathy moans and faint sighs, his voice catching occasionally, and though that was never what Yuki had imagined coming from the other, this is infinitely more erotic and he wouldn't have it any other way.

And Haru's surprisingly shy when Yuki finally discards his boxers, and he curls up slightly, self-conscious.

"Don't do that," Yuki tells him. "You look great."

And Haru diverts his gaze and says quietly, "No one's ever told me that before," and Yuki feels the words go straight to his heart so he bends down to kiss that sad expression off of Haru's face and he murmurs, like a mantra, "You're beautiful, absolutely beautiful," and eventually, Haru opens up to him and this is the happiest he's been in a long while.

They don't rush. They do it gently, softly, like the sunlight that filters through the slits of the curtains and illuminates Haru's hair as Yuki mouths down the line of his throat as he'd wanted to do for so long. They take their time, and they learn each others' bodies. Haru discovers that Yuki likes it when he licks up the long stripe of the redhead's collarbone, when he trails his fingers across Yuki's chest with the slightest hint of nails. Yuki finds that he'd best stay away from Haru's stomach if he doesn't want to be kicked off the bed in the alien's ensuing fit of giggles, but that Haru will shiver and moan of he rubs the other's spine just so. They talk and laugh and encourage throughout it all, and though it's nothing like a fantasy, it's amazing to see the way Haru's eyes widen and his lips part in a moan when he comes in Yuki's hand, the way he bites his lip and his expression darkens into something lustful when he brings Yuki off.

And in the end, in spite of all the bruises they'd sustained accidentally kneeing one another, it had been something intensely precious, intensely intimate, and they're quiet for awhile once the tissues had been discarded and they're both laying next to one another, hands intertwined, breaths and heartbeats in perfect rhythm.

(And Haru corners him the next day and pushes himself against Yuki, snaking his arms around the other's neck, and he kisses him, hot, wet, needy, and Yuki supposes that he isn't so devoid of desire after all.)

**(One. + ) **(Forever)

His palms are sweating and it makes the box in his hand slippery and nigh-ungraspable. He fumbles with it, almost drops it, then clutches it securely, exchanging it between both hands so that he can wipe them against his jeans.

"He'll definitely say no!" he half-hisses, half-yells at his two best friends as they shove him in Haru's direction.

"You've been dating for five _years_. You know some people in America get married after one night?" Natsuki tells him, reasonably, but that doesn't make him feel any better.

His head spins. He scrambles for an excuse—any excuse. "Does he even know what marriage _is_?" he asks, in a desperate attempt to get away. "Maybe we should do this later, after someone explains it—"

"Yes, he knows what it is," Natsuki cuts him off. "I had Sakura watch 27 Dresses with him to make sure. He liked it."

Yuki stares at him, dumbfounded, because _how much of an_ _evil mastermind do you have to be to do something like that_, and his so-called friends take advantage of his silence to push him further towards his doom. Or at the very least, his crypt of eternal shame.

"Look," Akira says, in an attempt to be helpful. "We're letting you do this privately, even though there are plenty of people here to create an audience." Yuki gulps and _yeah that's true._ They hadn't stopped their annual get-togethers, even after how many years, and he could see Coco and Erika and Misaki and Ayumi and Sakura and oh my god—

Akira steps in front of him, preemptively putting a stop to the freak-out that would inevitably have occurred. "Just take deep breaths," he advises. Yuki does so. "And remember if you get rejected, at least there aren't many people watching."

That wasn't very helpful.

Yuki gapes at the older man, who is already walking away looking cool and unruffled. _Way_ too unruffled. Didn't he know Yuki was in the middle of a life or death crisis right now? In a fit of spite, he asks, rather loudly, "Is that what you did to George?"

Akira very visibly freezes mid-step, and Yuki has a private moment to revel in his victory before Natsuki is pushing him onwards again.

"That was a dick-move," Natsuki asserts.

"_You're _the ones being dicks," Yuki retorts.

"Stop whining," Natsuki tells him.

"I'm not whining!" Yuki whines.

Natsuki sighs.

"Okay, now see here," he says, and Yuki recognizes that tone of voice—it was the same one Natsuki had used on him years ago when they'd just started fishing, when he'd told Yuki that "he was only going to say this once so listen up."

Natsuki turns him around by the shoulders and stares him right in the eyes. It's just as reassuring as it is intimidating.

"You've been together for five years," Natsuki begins, and Yuki gulps. He nods once. "You've known each other for longer. Think. Just think. Has Haru ever rejected you?"

A shake of the head.

Natsuki pauses, then his eyes soften, and so does his grip on Yuki's shoulders. "I know it's huge," he continues, a small smile at his lips. "I get that. But you have to put a little value into your relationship. You just have to trust him, okay?"

Yuki gulps again. Trusting Haru isn't hard. He thinks—he _knows_ he can do that, but that isn't really the issue so much as his own anxiety. What if he screws it up? What if he can't get the words out? What if he freaks out and runs away? He's just as afraid of Haru's answer as he is of himself.

But he also knows that what Natsuki said is right. He'd have to pull himself together and... well, trust, because there wasn't anything else he _could _do. He takes another breath, and because he doesn't have confidence in his voice, he nods.

His friend gives him an encouraging smile. "Go for it," he says, then spins Yuki around again and gives him a gentle shove in Haru's direction.

The blond is still a distance away, sitting on the sand with his feet in the sea. Coco is by his side, and they seem to be engaged in some sort of discussion, heads bowed and shoulders touching. Most of the time, he feels something of a pang of envy at the closeness of siblings, but not today. (Today, Haru is his.)

He gulps again, and doesn't give himself the time to think. The quicker he gets to Haru, the less of a chance he has of backing out, and so he places one foot in front of the other, and hopes that what they're talking about isn't too important.

Coco notices him first, and she lightly nudges her brother, who turns as well. When he sees Yuki, his face lights up and he smiles, even though he doesn't have much of a reason other than the fact that the sight of Yuki alone can make his spirits lift.

Yuki reaches the pair and he's tempted to join them, to put it off a little longer and to sit down on the sun-warmed sand with the water lapping against his legs. But he knows he can't. He can't afford to, because it will make any semblance of willpower vanish, and if he doesn't do it today, then he doesn't know when he'll try again. Better not play games with his resolve.

He slides the box into his pocket and gets to the point. "Haru, can I talk to you for a moment?" he asks, then adds, when Haru looks as though he's about to invite him to sit with the two of them, "Alone?"

Haru blinks, somewhat surprised, but pushes himself up anyway, dusting the sand off of his pants. "Okay!" he says. "Where do you want to talk?"

Yuki notices that Coco is eyeing him warily, with that protective aura siblings exert around one another about which Sakura sometimes sighs and calls "overbearing." Her staring doesn't make him feel much more confident, and so he takes Haru's hand and starts leading him away from the group.

He wouldn't be very surprised if Coco has already figured out what is going on. In fact, he has very good reason to suspect that she _does_ know, because, let's be honest, he had tried to approach Haru three times before, of his own volition, and failed miserably all three times. It would have been easy to whomever had witnessed those instances to figure out Yuki's plans (with the exception, perhaps, of Haru himself), and Coco had been around for at least two out of the three times. If her keenness isn't to be underestimated (and Yuki would be the last person underestimate her), it would be safe to assume that she knows precisely what is about to take place in the next hour, and probably a good thirty minutes after that initial hour.

"Yuki, is something the matter?" Haru asks, and the question jolts Yuki out of his thoughts.

"Oh, y-yeah—I'm fine," he responds. At Haru's questioningly raised brows, he hastily adds, "I was just thinking."

Haru tilts his head, a small smile on his lips. "About what?"

Yuki swallows. This would be his chance to—for the lack of a better phrasing—"set the mood." He doesn't want to bring up the topic out of the blue, after all.

"About a lot of things," he says, measuring his words, some of which he'd practiced to the mirror an exorbitant amount of times before. Haru walks beside him, treading on the sand just so, so that the incoming waves would wash across his feet, and he waits for Yuki to continue. Yuki licks his lips and does.

"I've been thinking about how long we've known each other, and how I met you," he begins hesitantly. He isn't sure if his words are right and he's certain that they sound utterly ridiculous, but he prays that the message he wants to convey will somehow go through. "I think you came here about eight years ago," he smiles, "and you made me go fishing with you." He wants to, but he can't quite bring himself to look at Haru just yet, so he sets his gaze on a distant point on the horizon, on the long stretch of sea and sand that lays spread out before them. "I was a little overwhelmed at first—well, more than a little—and I think I thought that you should just leave." He expects some sort of protest, but none are presented. Instead, he feels Haru's eyes on him, and the weight of the moment thickens the air around them. "But I ended up not wanting that. After everything that happened, you made me smile. And you brought me the most precious friends I'd ever have. Thinking about you leaving became one of the most painful things in the world. I didn't really understand that until you came to Earth for the second time, and then, I never wanted you to leave again."

He reaches out and takes Haru's hand in his. "I realized how precious you are to me, and that you make me happy. You say that to me all the time, y'know, but I never really say it back. I think I want to return it now. I want you to know," his voice catches briefly, "how happy you make me."

The picnic group on the shore has grown smaller now, and there aren't many other people in sight, but they're not fully isolated yet. Yuki still wants to move further away, and he realizes that he isn't out of things to say, so they keep walking, and Haru has been remarkably quiet thus far. Yuki ventures a glance over at the blond and sees that he's also looking forward now, an unreadable expression on his face. Yuki isn't sure whether that is a positive or negative thing, but at least he hasn't been shoved away yet, and Haru's hand is still warm in his.

He takes a deep breath and goes on. "When I fought with you the first time, Grandma asked me some questions." That was in the beginning, almost eight years ago, when he still couldn't really put up with Haru, when he still hadn't been able to afford a measure of understanding to that person who tried daily to understand him. But Kate had been gentle with him, and she'd smiled, and in that room smelling lightly of antiseptic, she'd asked him—

"She asked me 'What would you do if Haru disappeared?' 'Would you still have fun every day?'" He repeats the words softly, from memory, even though in that memory the room doesn't smell like antiseptic and it smells like flowers instead. "I didn't know the answers to them back then, but I think I do now." He takes a breath and continues with more conviction. "If you disappeared, Haru, I'd look for you everywhere, and I wouldn't stop until I found you. Because if you disappeared, I don't think I'd ever be as happy again. I don't think I'd be able to laugh the same way, and I know it sounds selfish, but I want you to stay with me. I want you to stay with me so that I can see you every morning, so that I can smile and laugh with you. I want you to stay with me and I don't want you to leave because—because you're so precious to me."

They're approaching a small rock outcrop now, and Yuki thinks that they're far enough away. And he doesn't want to wait any longer, he doesn't know if he _can_, and so he veers from the shoreline and pulls Haru behind the rocks and turns the other to face him.

Haru's looking at him with startled eyes, and it seems clear that he doesn't know what to expect. "Yuki..?" but before he can articulate anything, Yuki presses a quick kiss to his lips. Afterwards, he doesn't move away and rests his forehead lightly against Haru's instead, closing his eyes.

"Just let me talk," he breathes, "please," and Haru doesn't say anything else.

Yuki takes both of the other's hands (softer, paler, thinner) in his own, and he feels the security, the trust, the intense emotion between them. It suffocates him, winding itself around his body and throat, but it's a pleasant feeling. "I want you to know how precious you are to me," he murmurs. "I don't want you to leave me, ever."

And they stay like that, seconds that feel like eternities, exchanging breaths and sharing their heat. Then, Yuki pulls away, makes sure that Haru's eyes are open and watching him, and he drops down to one knee, fumbling in his pocket. His face is red now, and he feels his heart pounding a fast-paced staccato in his chest, but he holds Haru's gaze, earnest, no backing down now.

He pulls out the velvet box that he'd been imagining since half a year ago, that he'd kept in his drawer since two months ago, and his fingers have to scrabble at the surface before he manages to pry the lid open. (The ring is a golden band with a small garnet embedded in the center and the sun glints off of it and it glitters like stars and neither of them can pause, can catch their breaths now.) He watches Haru's eyes widen and those pale hands clamp over the other's mouth, and he says:

"Haru, will you marry me?"

For a few moments, it's silent between them, the only sound being that of the waves washing against the shore and far off laughter. Haru looks absolutely stunned, and Yuki has his lips pursed, his hands shaking, his breath coming short, his stomach is twisted into knots and his is heart clenched in a dreadful, apprehensive, hopeful fist.

And Haru nods.

Yuki realizes that the other is crying. Tears slide down Haru's cheeks and against his fingers, but he keeps nodding, moved beyond words. And even with tears streaking his face, with sand clinging to his legs and the beginnings of a sunburn around his shoulders, Yuki thinks that he looks absolutely gorgeous.

"Haru..." Yuki murmurs, and he's about to get up and draw Haru into his arms but the blond doesn't give him the chance and launches himself at Yuki instead. Yuki ends up with his back on the sand, the wind knocked out of him, and a tearful boyfriend _and well hell, it's his fiancé now, isn't it?_ on top of him and just enough presence of mind to snap the box shut.

Haru has his arms wrapped around Yuki's neck, and he's sobbing, breath coming in short gasps as his shoulders tremble. "Yes, I'll marry you. Yes, yes, yes," he manages to choke out against Yuki's neck, and the redhead smiles, his own vision somewhat blurred, and raises a hand to stroke Haru's hair.

Then, Haru pulls away, turns his head, and he presses a kiss against Yuki's lips. It's rash, passionate, feeling, and he pours all of his emotions into the simple act and Yuki has to gasp and try to keep up.

And when Haru breaks away, he looks down at Yuki with tearful eyes, infinitely tender, and murmurs an "I love you," but before Yuki can respond, he finds that he's being kissed again, just as fervently as before, and so he wraps his arms around Haru's waist and draws the other closer and tries to convey his answer through that kiss.

(They make their way back to the group fifteen minutes later, with Haru's eyes red and the entire backside of Yuki's clothing doused in sand. Yuki's disconcerted and feels the need to shy away when he discovers that everyone is looking at them expectantly, but Haru holds no such reservations and immediately dashes into Coco's arms where he begins bawling again.

Not long afterwards, Yuki finds himself sequestered by Akira and Natsuki, and they each raise an eyebrow at him with identical expressions of smugness. "Well?" they ask.

Yuki grins. "You're both awful," he says, and hugs them.)


End file.
